The Fight for Immortality
by ItsMyIceCream428
Summary: Twenty-five teenagers. Robbed of their memories and placed in an abandoned high school, required to fight to the death until a victor is crowned the new God of the world, which is currently on a path to destruction. Their strongest weapon being... diaries? Here, we follow their stories as alliances are made, plans are formulated, and lives are ended. No pairings, multiple POVs.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Mirai Nikki.  
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_Wait... where am I? _

The teenage boy suddenly opened his eyes, barely registering the lack of light. As he slowly came to his senses, he rolled over onto his back and pushed himself into a sitting position. Paying more attention to his surroundings, he noted that he was in a classroom. The desks were lined up neatly in four rows of six, the chairs were all pushed in, and the shelves were neatly organized. _How it is so tidy? _

Getting up to his feet, he began walking around the room, his footsteps echoing in the enclosed space. The room was in perfect condition - there was no doubting that. It was as if not a soul had walked through the doorway. However, when he walked by the teacher's desk - it was quite obvious, really, it was so much larger than the others - at the back of the room, he paused, brows furrowed.

There was a book. It was rather plain, with a simple black, leather cover and a red ribbon. Almost like...

_A diary. _

That was it. But why was there a diary in this room? It honestly seemed out of place for a classroom. Frowning, the boy picked it up and opened to the first page. Surprisingly, there were words written in it, in swirly script that looked too fancy to be handwritten. He began to read.

_Salutations, mortal. _

_You may be wondering why you have woken up in a classroom, of all places. You may think that this is all just some prank, but you couldn't be more wrong.  
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_You, along with twenty-four people around the same age - between fifteen and eighteen years of age, if you wish to be specific - have had your memories wiped completely and were taken to this abandoned high school. You have been taken here to decide which one of you is to become God. _

_The world is to end in ninety days, as I am growing steadily weaker. You will have that time to fight your opponents, and take them down to be the victor. If there is no victor in ninety days' time, the world as you know - or once knew - it will end. If there is a victor within ninety days, however, you will be crowned the God of this world. Being young and healthy, you will be able bring the world back from the hellish path it is now following.  
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_Of course, there will be twenty-five contestants trying to kill each other - this includes you. You must watch who you trust in this competition. _

_Now, you may be wondering where this diary comes into play. Each contestant has their own diary that aids them in some way, whether it tells them the location of supplies or how many people will die in a day. You, however, will be able to see the alliances made between your competitors. A new diagram will be shown each day, based on who is still alive and what alliances have been made or broken. Your entries will only be updated the within the first two hours of each day, and you will not know if a member of an alliance will betray who they are allied with. Slain competitors will simply have their names not show up the following day. _

_No two people have the same diary, and you can't see the entries of another person's diary unless you are either allied with them, or kill them. This note is in all of them, however, and you will be able to read that regardless of your relationship with another competitor - all of it, except for the section where their diary's power is stated. Obviously, it will be their name that shows up as well, not yours.  
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_Of course, in every competition, there are rules - why would this one be an exception? _

_- You may only go outside to go to the soccer field, basketball courts, running tracks, portables, parking lot, and planter. You may not pass the fence surrounding the back field and pavement, or go to the road around the front of the school. Failure to comply with this rule will result in immediate death. _

_- There are exactly sixty chests hidden around this high school, whether they be inside or outside. They restock every twenty-four hours. Items that can be found in these chests include food, water, medicine, first-aid supplies, clothes, backpacks to carry your goods, and weapons. _

_- The diaries do not lie. Consider it one of your only hopes of survival. If you lose your diary within the boundaries, it is possible to retrieve it; you must do so by yourself, though. Your diary is irreplaceable if destroyed or if it somehow ends up outside of the boundaries. Be careful with it.  
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_- You are being watched. Do not think that these rules are breakable. `_

_Your name is Arthur Kirkland. Good luck to you, and we shall see who the new God is.  
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Well, that was awfully comforting. Frowning, the boy - wait, Arthur is his name, right? - flipped to the next page. What he found was rather strange.

Arthur stared at the page. There were words written in it - no, wait, those are names! Strangely, they were arranged in a circle. Arthur peered closely at the names written in the book.

_A. F. Jones_

_M. Williams  
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_F. Bonnefoy_

_M. Køhler _

_K. Honda _

_T. Laurinaitis _

_L. Vargas_

_B. Zwingli  
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Those were only a couple of the names that were written on the page. Arthur scanned the circle before finding his own name, _A. Kirkland, _at the top of the circle. In the bottom right corner, the words _Day One _were neatly written.

_"So... what happens when people create an alliance?" _Arthur wondered. Just as he was about to close the book, something caught his eye.

A small, black line was slowly appearing on the page, as if ink was dripping on the paper and slowly spreading to form the line. Frowning, the green-eyed boy peered closely at where the line was going. After a few seconds, it stopped. The line now connected the names _F. Vargas _and _L. Beilschmidt_.

_"I'd suppose that the two of them are allies now." _Arthur concluded. _"Who knew that alliances could be created that quickly?"_ he wondered_. _"May as well go find some allies of my own," he muttered. Closing the diary, he began to briskly walk towards the classroom door. Unfortunately, just as his hand reached the knob, the door opened with a deafening _slam_. Arthur was thrown into the nearest desk from the force of the door hitting him.

"What the hell?!"

"Oh, hey dude. You okay?"

With a grunt of pain, Arthur managed to slowly get up so he could see ahead of him. In the doorway stood a boy with short blond hair - and one piece that seemed to defy gravity - and blue eyes behind a pair of glasses. He was wearing a plain T-shirt and jeans, as well as a bomber jacket from... World War Two, was it?

"What the fuck was that? You could've killed me!" Arthur snapped, boiling with anger.

"I thought that was the point of this!"

"You insolent-"

"Hey, calm down, okay? How was I supposed to know that there was someone in here?"

Still scowling, Arthur took a deep breath to regain his composure. "Who are you anyways?"

"Well, according to that diary-thing, I'm Alfred F. Jones!" the boy replied with a huge smile. "And you?"

Arthur sighed. "Arthur Kirkland. Pleased to make your-"

"Good to know! Hey, I found some supplies in the classroom I was in. Wanna come?"

Well, going with this stranger seemed better than refusing and, therefore, increasing his chances of _not _winning.

"Alright, fine. Just promise to not be so loud? I don't want to get killed, thank you very much."

"Yeah, whatever. Come on!" With that Alfred grabbed Arthur by the wrist and dragged him out of the classroom and through the halls.

"LET GO OF ME!"

* * *

><p>About ten minutes and one teenager's throbbing wrist later, the duo found themselves in a classroom very much like the one Arthur was in. Desks, shelves, and all.<p>

Alfred made his way to the back of the class, where the shelves were. "The supplies are right here - wait, what?!"

"What's wrong?" Arthur inquired, somewhat concerned.

"The supplies are gone! I left them right here!"

"Did it never occur to you that it would have been a better idea to, oh, I don't know, BRING THE DAMNED SUPPLIES WITH YOU?"

"But I swear it was right here! And I was gone for only a few minutes!"

Arthur was about to let out a stream of choice words when a _thump _broke through the air. Startled, Arthur whipped around and Alfred jumped back in fear.

"W-what was that?" Alfred asked, shaking.

Arthur didn't reply. Cautiously, he made his was over to the front of the class, where a large plastic bin sat by the door. Arthur carefully lifted the lid off, anticipating something to jump out and kill him.

What he wasn't expecting, however, was two blond teenagers hiding in the container, shaking with fear. One of them, the one with blue eyes, immediately began panicking.

"Please don't hurt me! You wouldn't want to kill this example of beauty, right? _S'il vous plaît, ne me tuez pas_!"

"What about me, eh?" the second teenager said - more like whispered, Arthur could barely hear him. The other boy's begging was no help.

"It's not like I have anything to kill you with," Arthur snapped. "And would you shut it?" He glared at the first teen, who was still rambling on about how he really didn't want to die. As soon as the words left Arthur's mouth, however, he stopped talking.

"Ah, _désolé, mon ami_._ _We weren't expecting someone to find us so soon," he replied, getting up to his feet and stepping out of the bin. "I'm Francis Bonnefoy, and you?"

"Arthur Kirkland," he replied irritably. He looked down into the bin at the other boy, who had yet to get out. "What about you?"

"Um, I'm Matthew Williams," the other boy answered shyly, making his way out of the container. "Nice to meet you."

"Hey, Artie!" Alfred cut in, bounding over to where the three of them are standing. "Who are these guys?"

"Francis and Matthew," Arthur replied. "And don't call me Artie!"

"Nice to meet ya! I'm Alfred F. Jones!" Alfred said with a smile, completely ignoring Arthur, much to his - Arthur's, that is - chagrin.

Francis and Matthew offered small smiles to the loud blond, while Arthur stood by, watching them. Maybe he would be able to form an alliance with these three?

Would he be able to trust them?

What if it came down to the four of them? Would he be able to find it within himself to kill them?

"Arthur?" A quiet voice jolted him out of his thoughts. Matthew was looking at him, concerned. "Are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh, yes, I'm fine," Arthur said dismissively. Matthew frowned, not entirely sure whether to believe him or not, but accepted the reply nonetheless.

"Perhaps we could form an alliance?" Francis suggested, joining the two of them. "It would probably be beneficial to all of us. You three could all protect the _très beau moi_!"

"I have no idea what that means, but I'm assuming that you just suggested that we should be your bodyguards," Arthur sighed.

"He did," Matthew confirmed.

"What? No way, that's totally uncool! How about you three could be my sidekicks?" Alfred added.

"And what, pray tell, would you be?" The rambunctious boy was getting on his nerves.

"The hero, of course!"

"We are _not _going to do that!"

"Please don't fight," Matthew tried to cut in, but to no avail.

"That's an absolutely ridiculous idea!"

"You just enjoy shooting down every one of my ideas, don't you?"

"You didn't _have _any other ideas before now! How does-"

"Alright, alright, that's enough," Francis said, pushing the two apart. "So, are we allies or not?"

"Sure, whatever," Alfred said.

"I'm in," Matthew agreed.

Arthur mentally sighed. Well, better annoying-as-hell allies than none at all, right?

"Alright, fine."

"Dude, this is going to be kickass!" Alfred yelled, excited.

"Would you keep it down?!" Arthur snapped. "We could get caught!"

"I agree with Alfred," Francis added his two cents. "It'll be nice to have allies!" Without warning, he grabbed Arthur and pulled him into a hug. "Especially you! _Vous êtes tr_è_s mignon!" _

_"LET GO OF ME, FROG!" _

* * *

><p>Little did Arthur know, "F. Vargas" and "L. Beilschmidt" had not become allies through a simple greeting and an offer of a pact not to kill each other.<p>

Ludwig Beilschmidt - at least, that what his diary said his name was - was searching through the classrooms on a different floor of the school. He already had a bag, some bandages, and a bit of food. He figured that it would be enough to survive a few days, so he continued to explore the school to find more supplies and so he would know his way around. Thankfully, he hadn't run into anyone quite yet, as he had no weapon and therefore no way to defend himself.

Sighing, he pulled the strap of his bag higher onto his shoulder and pushed a door open. To his shock, there was already someone there!

A shorter, auburn-haired boy - was that a single curl in his hair? - was rummaging through a chest at the back of the room. When Ludwig opened the door, the boy turned around, eyes wide.

"AHH! I'm sorry, please don't kill me! Here, you can have my stuff, or maybe we can share? Can we be friends? I really, really don't want to die, what if I just lay there in a pool of my blood for days, that would hurt so much-"

Ludwig just stared as the boy continued to blabber incessantly out of fear.

"Um... don't worry, I won't harm you," he said slowly, unsure of what to expect. To his surprise, the boy stopped his rambling, a smile spreading over his face.

"Ve, that's wonderful! You're so kind!" The boy practically skipped over to him and enveloped him in a huge hug, causing the taller boy to blush.

"I- um, please let go of me..." Ludwig stuttered, embarrassed from how close the shorter boy was.

"Oh! _Mi dispiace," _the stranger said, immediately letting go and looking ashamed. "Please don't be mad..."

"Uh, don't worry about it," Ludwig tried to brush it off. Clearing his throat, he asked, "What's your name?"

"My name? Um, I'm not sure."

Ludwig's brow furrowed. "Didn't you check your diary?"

"We got diaries?"

Ludwig sighed. "Never mind that. Out of curiosity, did you wake up in this room?"

"Yeah! It was really scary at first, because I didn't know where I was or who I am or anything like that!" By the end of that sentence, Ludwig had tuned the boy out and was walking to the large desk at the back of the room - the teacher's desk. Sure enough, there was a diary just like his own, down to the red ribbon that served as a bookmark. He picked up the book and opened it to the first page, where the note was. Scanning the letter, he stopped when he reached the bottom.

_Your name is Feliciano Vargas. Good luck to you, and we shall see who the new God is. _

_"Well, that's good to know,"_ Ludwig thought. With Feliciano's diary in his hands, he walked over to the auburn-haired teenager and tapped him on the shoulder. Feliciano, who had been humming some sort of tune, turned around.

"Here's your diary. You may want to read the beginning," Ludwig advised. Feliciano accepted the diary and opened it to the first page, reading the greeting. The smile on his face slowly disappeared as he read each sentence. When he was done, he pressed it shut, shaking.

"This is scary! Is everyone there out to kill me?" The shorter boy looked as if he was on the verge of tears.

Ludwig patted Feliciano's shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry, Feliciano. Not everyone is out there to kill you."

"Will you protect me?"

That question caught Ludwig completely off guard.

"What do you mean?"

"This is all really scary! I don't know if I can make it by myself!" At this point, a few tears had escaped his eyes.

"If you want... we could be allies," Ludwig offered. Feliciano looked up at him.

"Ve, you really mean that?"

"Well, yes..."

Silence hung in the air, with the duo standing apart. Until Feliciano jumped on Ludwig, holding him in another hug.

"You really mean it! _Grazie mille! _We're going to be the best allies ever!"

"I- um, yes. Yes, we will," Ludwig agreed.

Feliciano released Ludwig with a look of confusion on his face. "Ve, you called me Feliciano earlier. That's my name, right? Like the diary said?"

"Yes. Feliciano Vargas," Ludwig confirmed.

"I never got your name, though," Feliciano pointed out.

"Oh, mine? It's Ludwig. Ludwig Beilschmidt."

"Okay, Ludwig! We're going to win this competition thing!" Feliciano cheered. "Here, I found these in the chest!" Feliciano placed a jacket, some food, and a small knife in front of his new ally.

"That's good. Here, put it in my bag." Ludwig opened the backpack and held it towards Feliciano, who placed the food inside. Just as he picked up the jacket, Ludwig stopped him.

"Wear the jacket, the bag will be lighter that way."

"That's a great idea!" Feliciano donned the jacket. It was a little big on him, but still very good for keeping warm. "Do you want to keep the knife?"

"Sure," Ludwig agreed, accepting the sharp weapon from Feliciano and holding it tightly in his grip.

"Let's stay here for now. We already have sufficient supplies."

"Okay!"

A brief smile appeared on Ludwig's face, only to vanish when a single thought crossed his mind.

_"What if I'm the one that has to kill him?"_

* * *

><p>A blade swooped down in a single arc, narrowly missing Yao's head as he ducked. He managed to lift his leg and deliver a solid kick to his opponent, causing him to stumble back a bit. It wasn't long before he came back on the offensive, however.<p>

_Great. _It hadn't even been an hour and he was already at risk of being eliminated. He attempted to throw a punch, but the shorter teen had brought up his sword at that very moment. His fist collided with it, and the skin on his fingers split open. Wincing, he backed away, holding his other hand in an effort to stop the bleeding. His enemy advanced, sword raised in the air. The blade glinted in the light of the hallway, sealing his fate.

_I'm dead, he's going to kill me. Damn, I thought I could last longer than this! _

His opponent brought the katana down in a single, swift move. The sharp blade cut through his clothes and was dragged across his chest. With a silent scream of agony, he collapsed on the ground. He couldn't get up - the pain was unbearable. Spots swam in his vision as the sword was raised into the air, ready to be plunged into his body, hence sucking every last bit of life away. Yao shut his eyes. He didn't want to see the blade cut through his flesh, or his blood, staining the tiled floor.

He could almost sense the tip of the blade above him.

_Is my name the only thing I'll know about myself before I die?  
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_Is there anyone out there who will miss me? _

_I should've been more careful..._

**_Crack._**

The noise cut through the air. Yao could hear something slam into the wall and fall onto the ground. Opening his eyes, he saw that his attacker was slumped against the wall, unconscious. _What? _

A pair of boots appeared in front of him, and he struggled to look up. Yao saw a pair of violet eyes before he blacked out.

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><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

**_ S'il vous plaît, ne me tuez pas! - _Please, don't kill me!  
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**_désolé, mon ami_ - Sorry, my friend  
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**_très beau moi_ - the very good (as in looks) me  
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**_Vous êtes tr_è_s mignon! - _You're so cute!  
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_**Mi dispiace -**_**I'm sorry**

_**Grazie mille**_**- Thank you so much**

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><p><strong>Hey everyone! This is a story based off of a Mirai Nikki quiz I took on Quotev. I thought it seemed interesting, and since I had recently gotten into Hetalia, well, this idea was born. I decided to play around a bit with the concept, like adding more characters since I felt that 12 was not a lot to work with. I've only watched the first episode of Mirai Nikki, so don't expect this to follow it exactly.<br>**

**I wanted to give myself some practice writing the Hetalia characters, since I was always afraid of starting a fanfiction and having the characters be OOC. I guess this is sort of a trial.  
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**I have a few questions: **

**-Do you think I portrayed the characters okay? How could I improve? **

**-Should I use their nationalities to describe them? I mean, they know nothing about themselves, so I was unsure about using them (like "one Brit's" or "the Italian teen"). **

**Also, I need some more ideas for diary abilities. I already have 8 or 9, but I need 25. I'm welcome to suggestions! Please don't make the diaries over-powered, or have an ability that can affect a person directly (like a Death Note). Please make it so that information appears in the diary. PM me or leave an idea in the reviews.  
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**I hope to update my stories a bit faster, as I've finally gotten my IB application out of the way. That was quite stressful. **

**I think that, writing-wise, this is much better than my previous stories. It's more serious, and I think it's certainly an improvement from when I first started writing. And it's the first time I've written something over 3000 words.  
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**Your comments are appreciated! **

**-Mira **


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